Heritage
by Lord Panda
Summary: "You bleed. I bleed. They bleed. Whether we're Muggle-born or pure-blood or half-blood, it's just blood. What does it matter where our blood comes from when it runs through our bodies the same?" "It's the quality. It's not about whether we bleed or not. It's not about the purpose. It's about the quality. And the quality of our blood is different: it's better." SiriusOC
1. Chapter 1: Opening Act

**Chapter 1**  
 **Opening Act**

"Castor," I cooed, "Easy, boy." I clicked my tongue a few times, a habit I developed as a child whenever I wanted him to come to me. Hopefully, he found its familiarity comforting because he has been on edge since the beginning of the week. I didn't know how he knew, but he knew today was coming— _cage day_.

And it bothered me because I normally never had trouble handling him. Sure, he was troublesome and had a mind of his own and when he went hunting for the first time, he didn't bother to tell my family and I was in tears for two days, convinced he left us forever. To be honest, it made him a pretty terrible messenger owl and my parents had to get another one after a year because Castor was constantly missing. With the addition of the new owl (Lady), Castor was left in my care. But while his independent attitude made him a troublesome postal owl, it made him a great friend… or at least, that's what I thought.

But it now occurred to me as I tiptoed my way towards the little _thing_ that I may have spoiled him with too much freedom if I was having _this_ much trouble getting him in a cage. I approached him gingerly, saddling up to the lamp he perched on with all the speed of a dying snail. Once I got within a three meter radius of the glaring owl, I stopped and simply stood still. Without breaking eye contact, I slowly extended my arm towards him. _Easy, easy…_ Castor eyed me carefully.

"It's okay, boy. I'm not going to hurt you…or cage you…" I promised. If owls could snort derisively, Castor would not have passed up that moment. He didn't even buy it for a second, but fortunately, I had a second trick. I opened my palm to reveal an offering: bit of bacon.

In a second, he swooped down from the lamp and snatched the piece from my hand. Once he had the treat secured in his beak, he turned from me with a swift flap of his wings and made for a speedy getaway.

"Not so quickly," I tutted, and with my other arm, I quickly pulled him into an embrace. Tucked securely under my arm and pinned to my chest, he wriggled and screeched, but looked otherwise uninjured. I sighed. _Finally._

"Don't move so much. You might ruffle your feathers," I scolded lightly.

I walked downstairs into the main hall where a trolley cart with my trunk awaited me. At the top was a pristine silver owl cage. It was newly bought because we usually let Castor fly wherever he wants. Come to think of it, he hadn't been in a cage since the Notts visited. Mr. Nott didn't like the way Castor eyed his dinner and asked if I could put him away. I said no. My parents said yes. So I put him away in a cage. After that, he didn't play with me for a week until I threw that cage away. _The petty thing._

That was three years ago right here in this house.

Now at the troubling age of ten, I prepared to leave for my first day at Hogwarts.

 _It's… a change, to say the least_ , I thought as I placed Castor, now brooding silently, in his cage. It'll be my first time away from my family.

My family, although a reclusive bunch, come from a longline of nobility. Coursing through my veins was the untainted blood of centuries' finest and purest wizards. Just a hundred years ago, the Rivers' name was held in equal status to names like the Lestranges and the Parkinsons, but since then, the neighboring areas around our home have become inhabited by Muggles. It dragged our good name through the mud, which was why my parents and I associated with people little now compared to our ancestors; half-bloods and muggle-borns were below us and pure-bloods were mistrustful of us (that Nott visit certainly did not help). So we kept to ourselves, leaving our home rarely except for work and other necessities. _Oh, if my great-great-great-grandmother could see us now._

Perhaps it was for the best though. My parents were busy people. Dad was a healer and always had patients waiting for him while Mum was a scholar of Ancient Runes, devoted to her studies when she was not consulting for a museum. They wouldn't have time to entertain guests, much less entertain me. Their idea of throwing me a birthday party was inviting Evan Rosier over for a playdate.

And sure, I liked Evan and we were quite close, but the other 364 days of the year? Not much. It made growing up a little lonelier than it had to be.

Castor hooted irritably, snapping me out of my thoughts.

 _Right._ I smiled. I looked at him gently, reminded I hadn't been _so_ alone.

"It's just for a little bit. They'll have an owlery when we get there and I'll let you out then," I assured the peeved Castor, though he didn't seem convinced. I clicked my tongue again to relax him.

Suddenly the space before us warped oddly and in a second, my mother stood before me.

"Oh, good, you finally got him in his cage," she remarked tonelessly. She never had much interest in Castor or at least not since we got Lady. Her heels clicked as she strode toward me.

"Come along now, your father is at the station making sure the train hasn't left yet. You've wasted so much time with that bird…"

She grabbed my hand, inspected the trolley quickly to make sure we hadn't forgotten anything and we apparated.

* * *

"Your allowance for the month," my father said as he dropped a surprisingly heavy pouch in my hand.

"Oh, thank you," I smiled politely, tucking it into my robes. My father nodded without a word and looked away. Talking wasn't his strong point.

"Now," my mother broke the tension with her stern voice. "Listen to me. Make some good friends—and I mean _good_ friends. You know who is worth talking to and who is not. Don't neglect your studies. We'll owl you some allowance once a month—not that you'll need it much as a first year. Do your best."

She paused thoughtfully before tacking on one final item to the list. In a quieter and even more serious tone, she added, "Don't disappoint us."

I easily met her stony blue eyes; I had no conflict of interest so there was nothing to worry about.

"Yes, Mum. I understand," I replied dutifully. She nodded, satisfied.

"Good girl. Now your father needs to get back to work and I have to owl the museum. We'll be on our way."

"Alright, goodbye," I waved cheerfully. My mother patted my shoulder and apparated away first. My father lingered just a moment more. Without much effort, he lifted up my trunk from the cart and handed it to me. I took it in my hand and— _whoa_. It was… heavy. But my father didn't notice my struggle. Instead, he patted my back in an uncomfortable, awkward one-armed hug.

"Get on the train," he muttered roughly when he let go. With those last words as a final sendoff, he too apparated away.

Like that, I was alone for the first time—truly separated from my only family. I tried to persuade myself this wasn't so much a loss than a gain; I've gained a chance to talk with people and interact with pure-bloods like myself. This was good for me. Really.

 _"Last call. All students please board the Hogwarts Express."_

 _Well, here I go._ I tightened my grasp on my trunk and the cage handle. I boarded the train.

* * *

I recognized Evan Rosier right away. He had butterscotch blond hair, styled plainly in a thin mushroom cut. It looked alright… for now. _Wait a few months and the mushroom on top of his head will swallow him._ He was talking with two boys. If I remembered correctly, they were Avery and Mulciber. I vaguely recall seeing them at Evan's birthday party a few months back. I wondered if I should approach them. A part of me feared interacting with them; I knew Evan well enough, but not Avery and Mulciber.

Fortunately, Evan spared me of the decision when he noticed me.

"Seph?" He bit back an emerging smile. Evan said something to the two boys and the pair quickly nodded and left. Evan jogged over to me cheerfully.

"Thank Merlin! I thought your parents were going to forbid you from coming to Hogwarts! The homeschooling option was so real," he breathed a sigh of relief. Castor chimed in with a hoot, indicating that option was his preference. I ignored Castor.

"Yes, because they couldn't possibly have had enough of me bored at home after ten years of it," I laughed as though that hadn't seriously been a concern of mine as well. It was. I would rather drill a hole in my eye than stay another seven years in that dull house. Homeschooling was basically the past five years of my life. I've been reading my parents' books for years just because I ran out of things to do and now I had a beginners' grasp on potions and runology. Merlin, I was so glad to be out. Just remembering those days withering away in the family library nearly brought a tear to my eye.

"It's so good seeing you again," I said, trying to sound less attached to Evan than I was. Merlin, I was just so happy to see someone that wasn't a moving photograph in a textbook.

"I'm touched," Evan chuckled understandingly, giving me a pat on the back. "Let's find some seats and catch up, shall we?"

* * *

We handed our luggage to some house elves when we walked in the entrance. Much to Castor's chagrin, I gave him over too. I mean, I couldn't exactly show up to the Sorting Ceremony, still holding Castor in my arms. Besides, it was the quickest way to ensure he got to the owlery as soon as possible. Once all of us first-years surrendered our luggage, we followed Professor McGonagall to the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. The walk was quite long so Evan and I had some time to chat. Not many first-years were talking, but Evan and I hadn't seen each other in so long so it was hard to stop.

"Of course I remember the Pompion potion prank!" Evan grinned. "Mrs. Goyle was so upset we turned her son into a pumpkin and then Mum got so mad. She almost didn't invite you for my next birthday. She told me that if you came, the Goyles wouldn't show up. Of course, I just told her, 'Win-win.'"

"Aww, and here I thought I didn't see them last year because they still hadn't found the cure," I laughed. "But I'm glad you liked the potion. When I saw the recipe in one of my books, I knew it'd be the perfect gift for you, but I guess I forgot to consider everyone else's reactions. Was your mum really so mad?"

"Oh, yeah," Evan snickered at the memory. "She nearly blew a fuse. Especially since the Goyles are our close friends. Goyle's a second year now, you know. I bet he's been planning his revenge for a while so you should watch out." He paused before adding, "While you're at it, beware of Crabbe."

"Why?" I asked, bewildered. "I haven't done anything to him."

"Yeah, but after you left, I slipped some of the potion into his drink too. He was pissed and thought it was you. I just never bothered to correct him."

"Evan!" I gasped, horrified. "You traitor!"

"I did what I must, Seph," Evan shrugged, though tone solemn. "I did what I had to survive."

"Don't be ridiculous! I have two heavyweight second-years after me already and it's still my first day!"

"Not completely my fault."

"Half of it is your fault. Take some responsibility."

"Alright, fine, I'll stick by your side until we graduate or until Crabbe and Goyle graduate—who knows how long that will take?—and we'll fend off the pair together. How does that sound?" Evan suggested with a playful wink.

I grinned at the thought. I was used to only seeing Evan twice a year, but now we were stuck in the same school together. Not bad. Not bad at all. "I'm holding you to that promise."

Suddenly, the crowd in front of us stopped moving.

"Ahem, first-years, we've arrived at the Great Hall," Professor McGonagall announced. "Enter quietly and we'll start the Sorting Ceremony right away."

We shuffled in slowly. A few first-years looked around nervously. I overheard one girl whispering, "What if I don't get sorted into any house?" to which I scoffed. _Hufflepuff._ When we were all gathered in the hall, Professor McGonagall walked to the front where all the professors were lined up. Before the professors' table were a simple stool and a wrinkled hat. I immediately recognized it as the Sorting Hat from the books.

"When I call your name, come up and have a seat on the stool," Professor McGonagall instructed. "ADLER, IRENE."

"Avery is probably going to be the first Slytherin," Evan whispered as we observed the ceremony. Avery was the third person up and like Evan predicted, was the first Slytherin sorted that year. The upperclassmen at the green and silver table cheered loudly as they welcomed their first recruit of the year.

"Black should be next, right?" I knew the Blacks had a son our age though I rarely ever saw him, of course.

To my surprise, Rosier didn't say anything, but clenched his teeth at the name. "Who knows?" he replied, sounding restrained.

"BLACK, SIRIUS!" Professor McGonagall called.

"There he is. Hey, he's rather good-looking," I joked. Evan rolled his eyes.

Well, he was attractive. He had icy gray eyes, black hair swept up stylishly, and a sort of daring smile. "Maybe you can ask him for hair styling advice after all th—"

"…GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat declared.

Silence swept the hall.

 _Huh?_ I stood there, stunned. What just happened?

The entire Slytherin table was just as confused. A few of them were angry and some even disgusted. On the other hand, the Gryffindor table looked absolutely thrilled and gave the boy plenty of pats on the back and handshakes. One unsorted first-year with glasses in front of us seemed just as excited. He called out Sirius's name multiple times with uncontained enthusiasm.

But the one who seemed most pleased with the decision was… Black himself. He wore the broadest grin and returned every handshake and hug with all the pride he could muster. He even blew a kiss to the crowds before sitting down beneath the red and gold banner.

Beside me, Evan snorted.

"Thought so. Sirius has been like that for years now—he doesn't commit to the family, his _blood._ Dad's convinced he's going to be a traitor. He's all but cemented that belief now," Evan explained.

I had no idea. Sirius Black who was raised by the prestigious Black family… to turn out like this… what a shock.

Or rather, what a disappointment to us all. I shook my head sympathetically.

"It must be difficult for your family. He's a cousin of yours, isn't he?"

"Yeah, my aunt on my dad's side married his mother's brother. It's a stretch, but we're cousins." Evan didn't look proud of the connection.

"How about his little brother? Is he alright?"

"Regulus? Regulus is a good kid, thankfully. I don't think Mrs. Black could have lived if both her sons ended up like Sirius," Evan sighed. That was good to know. At least Mrs. Black would have one son to be proud of when she hears the news that her oldest son was a Gryffindor.

 _Gryffindor._ Part of me still couldn't believe it. I bit my lip, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Hey, it's your turn soon," Evan said, changing the subject. He smiled expectantly at me, uplifting the mood.

"Right," I forced a smile through my teeth. But I was worried. If that happened to Black… could it happen to me?

"RIVERS, SERAPHINA."

"Don't be nervous," Evan whispered, encouragingly. "You have a really stupid name and now the whole school knows it including your professors and peers and they'll probably remember it for the next seven years, but don't think too much about it."

Well, that wasn't what I wanted to hear. I side-eyed him.

"…Thanks, Evan." I muttered, unamused, though to some extent, grateful for the distraction. "See you soon." _Hopefully._

He smiled back.

I climbed up to the stool where Professor McGonagall placed the hat on top of me. My fingers curled around the seat nervously and I squeezed my eyes shut, awaiting the decision of a lifetime.

But it didn't come. All I got was small-talk.

 _"Miss Rivers, what a pleasure to meet you."_

 _"Same, I guess,"_ was my half-hearted response.

 _"Your parents were proud Slytherins, if I remember correctly."_

 _"And I'm hoping to continue the proud tradition,"_ I not-so-subtly hinted with a grin.

The Sorting Hat remained silent as it quietly thought to itself.

 _"You're quite lacking compared to them,"_ he suddenly declared.

The remark nearly choked me. _"Excuse me?"_ I retorted, highly affronted. My injured pride immediately overtook my initial fear of being sorted wrongly. _"What is that supposed to mean?"_

 _"Hmmm… motivate yourself. Take initiative. Ambition will enable you to do what you normally can't. That's my advice to you."_

 _"Thanks…"_ I replied though it sounded forced and hollow even to me. But unsurprisingly, I was still feeling bitter.

The Hat chuckled. _"You'll understand someday. But we shouldn't talk any longer. Enjoy your time here at Hogwarts, Rivers."_

 _"Thanks,"_ I thought, more sincerely this time, just as the Sorting Hat announced, "SLYTHERIN."

I breathed a sigh of relief as I made my way towards my rightful seat at the Slytherin table. I belonged now. No need to worry. Feeling more at ease, the Hat's advice was quickly put out of my mind.

"Welcome, Rivers," a tall blond boy whom I recognized as Lucius Malfoy praised. A few others nodded and smiled at me as well.

"Thank you," I replied humbly. Malfoy was a very respectable member among us pure-bloods so it was nice to know he didn't hate me right off the bat. Goyle and Crabbe on the other hand…

"Hey, guys, it's Rosier! Over here, Evan!" someone else shouted. Evan's extended family and friends all cheered and high-fived him as he walked past. Avery and Mulciber personally stood up and clapped him on the back. I observed the exchange as I awaited my turn to congratulate him.

"What a coincidence! We're Slytherins too, Rosier," Mulciber smirked as he bumped shoulders with Evan.

Avery, who was calmer and more serious, bore a cheeky smile. "Looks like we'll be seeing lots of each other… again."

"I expected as much," Evan shrugged casually, though grinning.

Evan to walk over to me and together, we found seats at the end of the table where we quietly observed the remainder of the ceremony. Only two more Slytherins were sorted after us: two boys named Severus Snape and Travis Wilkes.

Wilkes sat with Avery and Mulciber; the three had been friends for a while, I remembered. And if I wasn't here, Evan would be sitting with them too, I imagined. I wondered if Evan actually preferred my company or just felt sorry for me.

The other boy, Snape, looked just the tiniest bit nervous as he trudged over to the table. The Slytherins were welcoming, but it didn't appear to ease him. Evan noticed and naturally invited him over to sit with us.

"Hey, sit with us! You're Severus, right?" Evan smiled at the gloomy boy. Snape's long black hair nearly covered his eyes.

"Yeah," he answered simply, settling down on the bench seat beside Evan. _Not the conversational type_ , I guessed. But what Snape didn't know was awkward loners were no match for Evan's effervescent personality. I knew from experience.

"You don't mind if I call you Severus, right? We're going to be classmates for the next seven years so I thought I'd just go ahead and get on first-name basis right away. I'm Evan Rosier, by the way. You can of course call me Evan."

"Evan," he repeated, looking up. "I have a friend named Evans."

"What a coincidence. Introduce us sometime," Evan laughed, pleased to be drawing Snape out of his shell. "This is my friend Seraphina, by the way."

I smiled and waved. "You can call me Seph—or Rivers, if you prefer my surname."

"Call her Seph," Evan recommended. Evan proceeded to ask more questions about the boy. Where was he from? What were his hobbies? What's his bloodline like? After a while, Evan also started including the others at the table into the conversation as well, introducing Snape to Avery, Mulciber, and Wilkes. Then he introduced himself to the ones we didn't know such as the half-bloods in our house.

Meanwhile, I thought I would pour myself some orange juice as he made dinner talk. I took a sip as my eyes fell on Evan. He had such a… way with people. I was again reminded that even if he was my only friend, it wasn't true vice versa. I wondered how much time I would actually have with Evan in reality if he had so many other friends to entertain too. _Seven years together? More like two and a half if I'm lucky_ , I thought jokingly as I took another sip.

A part of me felt like an outsider despite my pure-blood affiliation. Pure-bloods should feel most comfortable here of all places, surrounded by all these Slytherins. They're supposed to be like kin. But I've been isolated from most of them for so long. _I'm an outsider_.

Something made me turn to the Gryffindor table. I wondered…was Black considered an outsider there? He, who should be sitting where I sat now. I searched for his head in the crowd.

When I found him, it was obvious he wasn't. He was laughing along with the glasses boy from earlier and seemed to be becoming fast friends with two other boys. He was nothing but smiles and spitting his food out accidentally from his uncontrollable laughter. Even though he should have been here with us under the silver-green lighting, he looked right at home beneath all the red and gold.

I observed silently. _I guess I should try a little harder._

* * *

 **AN:** WOW, this is such a long chapter. But if you got through it, I'm very proud of you and thank you so much for giving this story a chance. I know Seph is kind of an arrogant character, but it comes with the story. She'll get better.

This fic was previously under the title "Another Sky," but I quickly discontinued it because I didn't like the original writing. However, the story itself stuck with me and I wanted it written.

Really quickly, I just wanted to ask a fun question to you all. It's just something I've noticed and thought I'd ask what you guys think:

In general, I feel like in Sirius fics or mopre specifically, SiriusOC fics, there are two interpretations of Sirius's character:

1) a smart and good sort of guy who's more focused on his friends and doesn't date much, but when he does, he does it seriously. He has his rebellious attitude, but is generally a nice and understanding guy.

2) a cheerful, flirtatious player who's the most popular guy at school and is focused on having a fun time at school (with girls?). Very funny, very confident, and very proud. Can appear cocky and mean.

So which interpretation do you think is most accurate? Or which do you prefer? If anyone cares to know what I think, I'll leave my answer in the next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2: Manipulative Bastard

**Chapter 2  
Manipulative Bastard  
**

* * *

 _Evan became the first significant person in my life outside of family and I think even now, he's been a greater influence than them. Apologetic as I am to be writing this, but in retrospect, Evan has probably brought me more light than my family ever had, though I'd like to say not for lack of trying. But Evan was different and although my parents taught me much in potions, history, and runes, Evan had a talent for showing me things that couldn't be taught: what it meant to be a friend, a pureblood, and a Slytherin. His presence in my life thus far has been more substantial than anyone else's excluding, of course, Sirius. -S.R._

* * *

It got harder to talk to people as the weeks passed. By the end of September, everyone was already settled into their own little cliques. Avery and Mulciber stuck together, with Wilkes occasionally tagging along, though Wilkes was more often seen around his brother. Evan was with them too, but truth be told, Evan was with everyone. He was the "adorable" little brother of all the upperclassmen who knew him—which, _of course, he was._ It was sickening when you remember he framed me for Crabbe's fall for the Pompion Potion. What a _manipulative_ little—

Maybe that explained why Evan was especially liked by second-year, Bellatrix Black, who—despite being known for her cruel side—seemed fond of Evan as her favorite cousin. I couldn't really see anything else going for Evan besides his baby face, but that wouldn't impress Bellatrix Black. But manipulation? That was right down her alley. Black was also well-acquainted with Mulciber; they probably bonded over their shared interest in violence, especially violence against mudbloods. Avery on the other hand, who was often seen accompanying Mulciber, was more indifferent and cold than either of them. He smiled very rarely and always seemed to be the one keeping Mulciber in check; I would venture to guess he was smarter of the pair.

I sighed a little, trying to focus a little more on my homework at hand. None of those people mattered to me. I wasn't friends with any of them. We were merely in the same house; I knew _of_ them, but didn't _know_ them. So what did I care? You know what I should be caring about? _The exceptions to the uses of Alohomora and Colloportus._

Alohomora and Colloportus… I repeated the incantations in my mind and under my breath. I was good at Charms so this should be easy. Or at least, it would be if I wasn't getting constantly distracted. My eyes kept jumping off the parchment and landing on any part of the room that wasn't useful for charming. From the corner of the Slytherin common room, I had an excellent view of everything around me. More specifically, _everyone_ around me. Some of the upperclassmen—Lucius, Narcissa, the older Wilkes (Nolan), etc.—were gathered in the center, taking turns at a chessboard. A few girls in my year huddled together on a couch trying to read _Hogwarts: A_ _History_ with varying success; Heather Burke and Nora Travers were constantly stealing shy glances at Malfoy, who didn't notice them, all the while giggling. Ida was actually trying to read, though she looked ready to claw her eyes out with every word. Avery was practicing some spells diligently while occasionally replying to Mulciber's remarks as the latter flicked jellybeans off the tabletop in absolute boredom. Younger Wilkes, Lowell, was discussing the latest Quidditch scores with some of the Slytherin team members.

Basically, everyone was here except Evan. I guessed Evan hadn't returned yet. I didn't know where he was at all, though I've been wondering for the past hour.

I recalled my first day, my first night here at supper when I made the promise to try a little harder to make friends. And here I was tucked in corner. Well, I can safely say I broke my own promise. But what a useless promise it was anyway.

I decided I couldn't concentrate with all these noisy people around so I began gathering up my books and papers. As I organized my quills, I tried to figure out where I could go at this late hour. I could move to the dorms and work on my bed or go to the library for some more study space. The dorm would only be quiet a little longer before people started filing in to shower and sleep, but the library was a much farther walk and I had to carry quite a few books with me.

I wondered if Evan was in either of those two places. It would be nice if I ran into him.

 _No,_ I thought firmly. I shook my head, irritated with myself. I shouldn't be so… clingy? Is that the word? Attached? Desperate? Those words were pissing me off. I wasn't so weak. They weren't right—not for me. Merlin, I was better than this. Those weren't right for this situation. Or rather, no, there is no situation. There are no problems here—I'm fine just like this. I'm not—

"Well, don't you look lonely?"

 _Lonely._ Leave it to him to pop up and put words in my head.

"I'm not," I insisted, feigning annoyance. Evan only smiled, walking closer to me.

"You look like it though. Standing alone with your books, looking like a lost child. Where are you going with all those books anyway?" he asked with a frown. Did books offend him somehow?

"Bed or the library."

"Library, then," he decided for me right there with a proud grin. "I'll go with you."

"Well, what a relief. I have the great Evan Rosier to accompany me to the library," I rolled my eyes. "You're not that important, Evan."

"I beg to differ," he scrunched up his nose, trying to sound superior, but it only sounded like a poor impression of Malfoy. "I am highly important—self-important."

"Stop that," I laughed, throwing my quill at him. It sticks to his cloak and he tucks it behind his ear.

"Okay, let's go," he smiles boyishly. He pats me on the shoulder and makes a run for the exit.

I sighed, but chased after him. The books in my arms shifted awkwardly as I jogged, but that was the price for Evan's company.

* * *

We found a table a good distance away from other patrons at the library. It was warmly lit with a chandelier directly above it. Madame Pince wouldn't be able to hear us from here as long as we didn't start bawling loudly.

I sat down and began working immediately. Evan didn't bring anything with him, so he just played with the quill I gave him. I offered him some parchment so he could get ahead on his transfiguration essay, but he only cringed and refused to touch it. So we sat quietly for the most part with me working studiously and Evan just not doing anything. He just watched me work with a neutral expression. Usually, he'd be trying to make conversation, but this time, he just let me work. I wasn't complaining though; he was distracting when he talked. Something was off about him, but I didn't bring it up. I just let him be until he brought it up himself.

It took him only half an hour.

"I want to tell you something and I don't want you to be offended."

I didn't bother to look up. "If it's about Castor, I told you that I can't control him so telling me 'he's a prick' is not going to change anything. Besides, Castor hates me right now. I can't approach him anymore unless I go bearing offerings to my petty owl god." Yeah, I still hadn't fixed my relationship with Castor.

"No, that's not it, but your owl does need an attitude adjustment," Evan clicked his tongue and instinctively rubbed his left arm. Castor pecked him there feverishly last week over breakfast after flying back from a delivery for my parents. He brought my parents a letter and my parents in return gave him a coin purse with my monthly allowance inside. So when he dropped it off at my table and demanded a reward, I was obliged to give him all my bacon… only I was out of bacon. So he switched targets, except Evan apparently liked bacon just as much as the barn owl. Hence, the endless pecking upon thy left arm.

"Okay, then what is it?" I asked, eyes still casted down, scanning the pages of my homework.

"Promise you'll hear me out until the end."

I raised my eyebrows, finally looking up. "Now _this_ is odd." Evan and I usually talk comfortably with no formalities. I thought we were closer than this. But Evan's stony expression seemed to suggest he was serious. And that was strange because when Evan and I were together, we didn't really _do_ serious.

I sighed. "I won't get offended. I know you better than that," I assured him. Even if I did get offended, I'd probably get over it. I mean, I couldn't afford to lose Evan as a friend… my only friend.

"Okay, good. Then let me tell you: the pure-bloods in Slytherin don't like you."

"Oh, shocker," I scoffed. I went back to my homework.

"No, they're not _indifferent_ towards you. They dislike you, Seph."

"Oh."

That was completely different. And it cut a little… er, a lot.

"I… erm…" I didn't know what to say. My pride was a little wounded. I mean, of course I would want to be liked, but I could settle for indifference. But being actively disliked was different. So Avery, Mulciber, and Wilkes disliked me? And Malfoy, Black, and Lestrange? And… well, Crabbe and Goyle were a given, but Lestrange too?

"I still like you, don't worry," Evan smiled reassuringly. "I like you the most around here, actually."

And I guessed he would know who he liked most seeing as he has been socializing with everyone. Well, that was nice, though it did feel like pity telling me this now. I wasn't touched.

"Thanks?" I reply, confused. "Why do they..." I bit my tongue despite myself trying to act indifferent to the news, trying to convince myself their opinions didn't matter anyway. "… _hate_ me?"

"Because your family's been isolated for years from the pureblood community despite being purebloods and now you live in a Muggle town," he paused. "Well, that's not completely true. They could have overlooked that if you were more assertive and really made your stance clear. And well, you haven't. You've sort of sat back for the past month without definitively proving you're one of them—or one of us, rather."

"Okay," I felt numb, speechless. I was _so stupid_. I didn't know. I didn't… fucking hell, it stings. I'm so bloody stupid. And it's worse because _he's_ telling me this _now_. And he counts as one of _them._ "So why are you telling me this?"

"Because it's not too late to fix it."

Oh, _fuck him_. "Easy for you to say. You hop around like a rabbit, jumping into every circle where you're just blindly accepted and _adored_ by everyone."

He was silent. I wished he wasn't because this was the library and if he wasn't talking, then it was completely quiet and that meant this conversation now contains long, dragged out silences which only dragged out the conversation itself because it hasn't reached its end and to be honest, I needed this conversation to be over very soon.

"…Seph, don't cry."

"I'm not crying! You're crying!"

In my defense, I was eleven when I made my retort.

"Listen, it's easy to fix."

"Oh, sod off!"

I expected Evan to start getting frustrated and maybe leave me which, in the heat of the moment, didn't sound that bad. If he left, he'd be taking this talk with him and I could be left alone to wallow in my sorrows without feeling judged by my closest fried. But he was still bloody there in his entire patient, un-annoyed, not frustrated, pure-blooded elegance.

He just seemed to be waiting. Waiting for me to calm down.

And after a few seconds, which felt like forever, I did. Because what the hell was this self-pity party for? Certainly nothing productive. And as hard as it was for me to be accepting this news, it couldn't be easy for Evan to be telling me this. He was popular, liked, and he didn't have to have anything to do with me and others probably thought he _shouldn't_ have anything to do with me.

"Okay, so what's your plan?" I sighed, defeated. My tears were drying now.

"Easy," he broke into a grin, an expression more familiar to me than the serious face he had been making up until this point. "Make a friend. Any friend."

We were back to this. "Oh, fuck you!"

Evan, being the ever patient saint he was, just continued smiling to my annoyance.

"Stop that," I gritted. "Stop smiling."

"Why? This is funny, hearing you curse me out for once."

"Are you masochist?"

"No, but it's nice seeing you bounce back from that cry."

"You sound like a condescending asshole… which you are."

"And soon, you'll be one too. You'll be one of us."

I groaned. "If this is what you're trying to make me out to be, I don't want to join your exclusive pure-blood club of pure-assholery."

"I'm not trying to change you. I just want you to make a friend. Preferably someone less amazing than me. Don't want you getting too attached and leaving me by my lonesome."

"You know what, I'm gonna do it. I'll do as you say and after 'making another friend,' the first thing I'm going to do ditch your arrogant ass and 'leave you all by your lonesome.'"

Evan grinned. "Sounds like a plan. Hug?"

"Fuck. You."

Evan didn't reply, only really beamed in my direction. He must have figured that was the end of the conversation, but I still had one more question.

"So why did you really tell me this? I know you're a manipulative bastard so just be honest. Tell me your motives, manipulative bastard."

Evan shrugged, but consented. "Well, as you know, I'm quite fond of you."

"Ew, stop."

He ignored me. "But your reputation was not good for me."

I was hissing now. "Oh, fuck you, Evan!"

"Stop interrupting!" Evan said haughtily. "You were dragging me down, but with my heart of gold, I couldn't just leave you alone so I decided to switch up the situation. Instead, _I'll_ be dragging _you_ up. Win-win."

Evan that fucking manipulative bastard.

"I hate you so much right now."

"Well, I like you, Seph, so I'm going to keep you around as long as I can."

"I'm not a pet, Evan. But it looks like you'll be dealing with me a while longer because I'm going to be making that new friend just so you can publicly be seen with me."

"You know I don't care for appearances with you. I only care for what's best. Think about it, Seph. What's better: both of us being social outcasts or both of us being respected members of the pure-blood class?"

The words "social outcast" flashed a memory in my head. A thought of a gray-eyed boy with black hair sitting under a wreath of scarlet and gold. He was smiling.

I gritted my teeth again. Evan and I would have been fine either way… we could have been good friends, happy in each other's company either way. But Evan was right. Our happiness didn't have to cost us family and reputation. So there was no need to pay such a high price. He was right… as always.

"You happen to be right this time, Evan," I admitted begrudgingly. "But I know for a fact your charms and potions essays are littered with mistakes so I look forward to my turn of being a condescending bastard to you when we get our grades back."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. His innocent smile melted into a bitter scowl.

Well, I won that battle, but Evan won the war. Or rather, we negotiated terms that favored him more. Oh, well. The conversation was rough but the end of went pretty smoothly. I returned to my homework, feeling a little more motivated to finish it now.

* * *

Evan decided the time to act on my promise was breakfast the next day. "No time like the present, right, Seph?" he insisted. He pushed me to the breakfast table. "I give you the choice of anyone. Befriend anyone."

He said it inclusively as if I really had a choice, but he was pushing me specifically in the direction of Avery, Mulciber, and Wilkes. They were _his_ closest friends outside of me.

Frankly, I didn't think I was ready to handle them or at least, not all three of them at once.

Then I saw him. A boy sitting alone, eating quietly while scribbling notes in the margins of a book. He had dark hair and a gloomy expression. I vaguely recalled him from the first day… but after that, we mostly saw him with a Gryffindor girl and he didn't have a pure-blood name either so he probably didn't have many friends in Slytherin… yet.

I pulled myself away from Evan and started veering towards Snape with a determined smile. Evan stared at me, shell-shocked. I knew this wasn't what he wanted. The idea was to befriend a pure-blood to make it clear I sided with them, but nothing would come out of it if I just hung around other outcasts.

So I wasn't sure why I did it. Maybe I was doing it out of spite for Evan. Maybe I just thought I could have gotten along better with him. Well, I certainly didn't regret it.

"Hi. Snape, right?"

* * *

 **AN:** I'm not sure if this is a long chapter or not because I tend to think writing more than 4 pages on MS Word is long, but then I see it published and I realize it's not long at all. Sorry there wasn't any Sirius in here except for a brief reference, but it troubled me for months on how I can include him in this. I can't, sorry, so I ultimately decided to publish this chapter anyway even though I expect the response to be minimal. This chapter probably wasn't too fun to read, but it's necessary, I think.

Special thanks to **Tomorrow** and **PeacefulBlood** for reviewing!

Late late chapter, but I hope you guys will enjoy this story. I hope to update more frequently this year (happy new year, by the way). I won't abandon this, I don't think.

I asked a question in my first chapter about what portrayal of Sirius do you find most enjoyable, and I agree with **Tomorrow** that he's a blend of his most popular portrayals. JK Rowling described him as non-dating, but I really do think he dated a bit. I actually think he'd be quite cocky though since he was the one who tricked Snape into going to the Whomping Willow, but I can definitely see him and James switching it up sometimes and one would be the more arrogant one in certain situations.

Sirius is such a great character! I love him so much.

Okay, see you guys soon!


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